


Any Time Part 3

by rubyluvsupernatural



Series: Any Time [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Caring Dean, Caring Dean Winchester, Castiel in the Bunker, Comfort Sex, Comfort/Angst, Confused Dean, Dean Blames Himself, Dean Hates Witches, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Forced Pregnancy, Grand Coven, Magical Pregnancy, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Rituals, Men of Letters Bunker, Morning Sickness, Multiple Orgasms, Pregnancy, Prodigies, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Sensitive Dean, Sex, Sex Magic, Smut, Vomiting, Witch Curses, Witchcraft, Witches, dean and sam - Freeform, hereditary witch, mating spell, rowena - Freeform, unprotected sex, witch prodigy, witch reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 15:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4611126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyluvsupernatural/pseuds/rubyluvsupernatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the third installment of the Any Time series.  Reader goes with Dean to figure out what to do about their problem.  Smut of course. </p><p>also a reader request:  100 Kinks Request: 62 (comfort sex) and 84 (needy clingy sex) with Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Any Time Part 3

Dean rose when a knock on the motel door sounded through the room. Opening it, he visibly sighed in relief. “Cas, thank god.”

Dean led the trench coat clad man in. “Cas, this is Y/N.” 

Cas moved towards where you sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. You still weren’t feeling well, your head spinning, nausea crashing through you in waves. You gave him a weak smile. “Nice to meet you, Cas. Dean says you can help.”

“I can try,” he said somberly as he looked down at you with empathy in his striking blue eyes. “May I, Y/N?” Cas gestured to the blanket, needing you to remove it.

You nodded, sliding the blanket off of you, revealing your tank top and boy cut underwear to him. You noticed him flush a little. “Sorry, Cas,” you say to the angel. “I wasn’t comfortable in anything else. I’m starting to not fit in my clothes.”

Cas nodded in understanding, kneeling beside you. He carefully hitched your shirt up, exposing the slight bump of your belly. His hand moved over it, gently pressing. He squinted in concentration as you felt a warmth envelop you. 

“So?” Dean asked as Cas removed his hand from your stomach. 

Cas gently moved your tank top back in place and wrapped you back in the blanket. He looked at you, concern in his eyes, then turned to Dean. “Y/N was right, Dean,” he told the hunter. “This pregnancy isn’t normal.” 

You swallowed, starting to feel panic set in again. “What’s ……what’s not normal about it?”

The angel turned to you, his voice was sympathy soaked. “You’re a hereditary, aren’t you?”

You nod at his question, flushing when Dean’s eyes grew wide.

“You were chosen, Y/N,” he explained. “Chosen by the Grand Coven to bear their prodigies.”

You blinked slowly, trying to comprehend what Cas was trying to tell you. 

“A hereditary mated with the Michael Vessel, a Man of Letters, the descendant of Cain, a cured Demon,” he ran a hand through his thick, brown hair. “It will create the most powerful witch known to man. It will be more powerful than the anti-Christ.” Cas looked pointedly at Dean. 

“What do we do?” Dean breathed out, moving towards you, resting a hand on your shoulder. 

“I don’t know.”

****************************************************  
Sweat dripped down your temple, trailing down your neck. You lurched forward again, heaving into the toilet bowl. You grunted, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Fuck, why couldn’t ‘morning sickness’ actually happen in the morning?

You were glad that Dean had brought you back to the bunker, at least it wasn’t some dirty motel bathroom. The hunter had explained about the Men of Letters, how they were legacies, and that they had this compound. It was a safe place to stay until you figured out what to do about the pregnancy. About the prodigy. 

You pushed yourself from the toilet, leaning against the cool tile wall.

“Y/N?” Dean’s gruff voice came through the door. “You sure you’re okay?”

Pressing your hand to the wall, you hauled yourself up. Moving to the door you opened it. “I’m fine, Dean,” you smiled feebly at him. 

Your stomach churned again. You gripped your belly and you turned, shoving the door closed.

“Y/N,” Dean stopped the door, coming into the bathroom with you. 

“Dean, I’m…..” you trailed off, reeling towards the toilet again. You heaved into the bowl, silently cursing the eldest Winchester for coming in. You would prefer to be sick in privacy. 

You heard the tap run next to you, then his hands smoothing your hair back. “Sweetheart, just let me…..” he murmured, gently wiping your face with a cool, damp cloth. 

“’M sorry, Dean,” you mumbled, before heaving once again. 

“Don’t apologize,” he chuckled. “God knows I’ve had my share of nights clinging to a toilet bowl.” 

You breathed out in an attempt to laugh. Swallowing, you tried to stand bracing yourself against the wall. Dean quickly gripped your arm, helping you to the sink. You nodded, grabbing your toothbrush to try to alleviate the stale taste in your mouth. The sandy haired hunter stayed beside you, watching every move like a worried mother hen.

You rinsed your mouth, turning to him. “I’m okay, Dean. Women’s bodies are built for this.”

Dean moved his hand, smoothing your sweat soaked hair. “It’s my….”

You shook your head, cutting him off. “No, Dean, it’s Rowena’s fault. The High Coven’s. It’s NOT yours.”

His hand slid down, cupping your cheek. “Y/N,” he moved closer, his breath ghosting against your lips. 

You swallowed, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth. 

Dean tilted your face up, bringing his full lips down to meet yours. His kiss was gentle, comforting. You moved your hands to his hair, bringing him closer. Dean’s tongue swiped across your lips, begging for entrance and with a sigh you let him in. 

The hunter’s hand gripped your hair, tugging gently to reveal your neck. His lips danced across your jaw and down to your sensitive pulse point. Stopping there he gently sucked, pulling a small gasp from you before he moved back to your lips.

“Guys,” Sam was in the doorway, clearing his throat. “We found something.”

*********************************  
“So, we’ve been _mated_?” Dean said, sounding weary of this theory.

“The spell, it wasn’t just for sex. It was meant to mate you….specifically with Y/N,” Sam explained, pointing to the lore in a large tomb.

You moved to where the youngest Winchester was sitting, peering over his shoulder. The words “MATING SPELL” jumped off the page at you. “What does that mean?” your voice cracked, you weren’t prepared for this. 

“It means that you and Dean are paired off, Y/N,” Cas answered. He squinted at you. “Have you noticed anything….like being drawn to each other?” 

Swallowing, you thought back to the past four months. Your visions, the strange connection you felt with the hunter. Your eyes turned to Dean, finding his were on you as well. “Um, yeah,” you looked at Cas. “But I thought it was residual, from the, you know…….”

Cas nodded, “Yes, the sex,” he confirmed. 

Dean’s emerald eyes moved between you and Cas. “What are you two babbling about?” 

Licking your lips, you moved back to Dean. “Did you,” you touched his arm, trailing your hand down and gripping his hand. “Did you have any dreams……of me?”

Dean’s cheeks flushed, biting his bottom lip he nodded slowly. “I didn’t think it was anything,” he met your gaze. “I just thought…..”

You nodded reassuringly at him. “Me too, Dean, but it was the spell. We were dreaming of each other because we were supposed to be together,” your voice broke. “So all my visions, they were…..” you said, turning to Cas.

He nodded. “They all happened, you were meant to be there.”

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath. 

*************************************

Closing the door to the room the Winchesters had offered for you to stay in, you started to remove your too-tight clothing. You were exhausted, and needed sleep. Between the vomiting and the news of being mated to Dean you were physically and emotionally exhausted. 

Stepping in front of the full length mirror, you ran a hand over the slight bump of your abdomen. Your eyes moved to your breasts, they were fuller than usual, a side effect of the pregnancy. Your gaze then travelled to your face, a slight glow emanated from it. Another side effect. For all intents and purposes this pregnancy was _real_. 

There was a tentative knock on your door. “Y/N?” Dean’s voice came through the door. “Can I come in?”

You sighed, grabbing a loose t-shirt and sliding it on. “Sure, Dean.”

He came in, closing the door quietly behind him. He moved behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “We’ll figure this out, Sweetheart,” his breath ghosted across your neck. 

You nodded, swallowing, “I know we will, Dean.”

Dean nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. His lips pressed against you, nibbling gently against your sensitive skin. “I don’t know if it’s just the spell, but I need to touch you, Y/N,” he kissed your earlobe, gently suckling it between his lips. “I need to touch you all the time.”

You gripped his arms, tilting your head so Dean could access you easily. “Me too,” you breathed out, your voice barely audible.

Dean turned you to face him, his lips meeting yours in a needy kiss. You sighed, your hands moving to his face, keeping his lips against you. Your tongue slithered past his teeth, probing his mouth, tasting him. You drew small moans and grunts from the hunter’s throat. You moved your hands to his flannel shirt, unbuttoning it slowly, pushing it from his shoulders. Dean took the cue to grip the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. 

His lips met yours again, hands moving to cup your sensitive breasts. You gasped against his lips, reaching for his belt. Dean’s head dipped down, moving his lips to your pert nipples. 

“Dean, bed, now,” you breathed out.

He nodded, moving back up to kiss you before gripping you, lifting you into his arms. He moved to the bed, laying you gently on the mattress. You were spread out for him, his eyes moving up and down your body appreciatively. He was toeing off his boots to shuck off his jeans and boxers. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathed, climbing beside you on the mattress. His lips met yours again, pressing harder. His tongue delved deeper, eliciting moans from deep within your throat. “Let me…….let me take care of you……”

You nodded as he moved his hand down your body, pausing on your belly, his fingers gently circling it. You knew he meant more than sexually, you knew he was going to do his best to figure this out. You sighed as his fingers moved to the apex of your legs. He moved his fingers through your slick folds, gently circling your clit. 

You arched against him, “Dean, I need you, _now_ ,” you breathed, gripping his hand.

You felt him nod against your shoulder, carefully moving between your legs. His hard cock pressed against you, his eyes meeting yours. “God, Y/N,” he moaned as he pressed into you. Dean’s arms moved around you, holding you against him as he gently thrust into you. 

You moaned, rolling your hips against him. You were so sensitive. You weren’t sure if it was simply a side effect of the pregnancy, or a side effect of the spell. Your core was already aching for release, your engorged clit pulsing. “Dean, I’m so close,” you moaned.

“Then cum, Y/N,” Dean moved to kiss you, his tongue plunging into your mouth just as you reached your climax. He swallowed your cries, gripping you even tighter.

Dean started thrusting harder, pushing you through your orgasm. He continued the motions, rolling against you. You clung to him, barely able to breathe. 

“Y/N,” Dean’s voice came out as a moan, “I’m going to cum, baby, cum again with me.”

Dean drove deeper into you, his pelvis hitting your hard nub, his cock rubbing your gspot. 

You threw your head back, crying out Dean’s name. Your walls convulsed around his hard cock. Dean followed after you, his release flowing into you, hot and wet. Writhing together you rode out your climaxes, sweaty, needy, grinding, until neither of you could move anymore. 

Dean moved his head to the crook of your neck, kissing gently, his chest heaving. “I promise, Y/N,” his voice was husky, full of emotion that he couldn’t express in words. “I will take care of you.”

You ran your hands up his muscular back to his shoulders. Gripping his face in your hands you forced his green eyes to meet your gaze. “I know, Dean.”

******************


End file.
